


No One Blamed The Alcohol

by hunters_retreat



Category: Leverage, Supernatural, Supernatural/Leverage - Fandom
Genre: Crossover, Incest, M/M, Threesome
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-16
Updated: 2015-09-16
Packaged: 2018-04-21 00:45:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 310
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4808480
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hunters_retreat/pseuds/hunters_retreat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>No one blamed the alcohol.</p>
            </blockquote>





	No One Blamed The Alcohol

**Author's Note:**

> NOT a part of my Charming Verse.  Sorry guys!  Stand alone written for comment_fic!

  
Three bottles sat on the table, all opened in various states of use.  The tequila was half gone sitting upright on the table.  The whiskey bottle was mostly empty, fallen on its side.  The beer was completely drained, the label peeled nicely from the bottle.

Not all that much unlike the men in the room. 

“Fuck.”  Eliot said as Sam pulled slowly at the zipper of his jeans. 

“Yeah Sammy.”  Dean was sitting with his back against the headboard, still dressed and probably the most sober of them even if he had done more than his share of the drinking. 

Sam smiled up at his brother, naked, kneeling between Eliot’s knees as he began to pull his jeans off.

Eliot was on his back, and even as Sam got rid of his jeans, Dean moved down on the bed and rolled over, pressing his lips into Eliot’s.  Eliot moaned and Sam let out a deep laugh, something filthy and sexy as he tossed Eliot’s clothes aside and began stripping his brother’s outer shirt.

Eliot’s fingers dug into Dean’s hips, pulling him closer and it wasn’t until Sam began taking his tee shirt off that the two parted.  Dean sat up and Sam pulled the shirt away as Eliot began working on the only bit of clothing still remaining between them.  Dean let Sam tilt his head and then he had one arm wrapped around his brother’s neck as his mouth opened to him while Eliot’s mouth licked and bit a trail from one hip bone to another. 

 

 

In the morning, they woke up in a heap, Dean in the middle with Sam pressed against him tight, Eliot spread across the bed with his knee crooked around Dean’s and his arm over Sam’s hip.  There were bruises and bite marks, sore muscles and body aches.  But no one blamed the alcohol. 

 


End file.
